A Semper Augustus for Her
by CorinnetheAnime
Summary: Everyone has their ups and downs. For me, almost every day is terrible. Almost. Today just happens to be the day where in my heart, I can take a break from everything. You want to know why? It's my little sister's birthday... and death day. Full summary inside. This is a story about a character that needs more recognition from the show and from most fanfiction stories: Mikey. :)


**I noticed that there aren't many Mikey stories, so I want to give him some more character than the show gave him.**

**Summary: Everyone has their ups and downs. For me, almost every day is terrible. Almost. Today just happens to be the day where in my heart, I can take a break from school, from life, from the house, from everything. I take all the hits, the punches from all the bullies just for this day. I buy a beautiful bouquet of flowers only on this one, bittersweet day. The day of my sister's birthday...and death.**

**Rating: K+ maybe T because of sadness and tragedy**

**I don't DP. I don't own Mikey. **

* * *

><p><strong>1st Person Mikey<strong>

March 18. The name slowly rolls off my tongue.

To most people, it's probably just another regular, normal day of work to them, or maybe a birthday to others. Or an anniversary date. Or who knows what else, I don't know everything. But I do know what this day means to me. It's a special day, a very special day to me.

On this day, I will wake up in my bed with a sad smile or a glad frown, remembering what it means to me.

Like most days, it's the same routine: I will get dressed. Brush my teeth. Walk downstairs, listening to each footstep hit the wooden stairs. Eat breakfast quietly and slowly. Say goodbye to Dad. Grab my backpack. Leave the house for school with a fake smile.

But before I walk to my school, I will stop by the wishing fountain in the park and make the same wish I had made each year. I will grab a coin from my left worn pocket (this year, it was a nickel), close my sapphire blue eyes, inhale deeply and silently make my wish, flipping the coin successfully into the water fountain, waiting for the inevitable clink.

I will always wish happy birthday to my little sister. And...I will also wish her a happy death day.

I will then always sniffle from the sorrowful memory, wiping my glasses on my shirt. It was always the same each time. No answer. No response. I was alone with my thoughts to keep me company.

After that, I will walk to the school, awaiting the horrid stares, glares, sneers, jeers, mocks and laughter from everyone, especially the A-listers. I will strut up to the school's double doors and give a desolate sigh, knowing in my heart why I always do this.

I took all the blame, all the shame, all the misery, all the anguish from my heart for my sister's smile. I knew that she was probably in a better place and that she was grinning down at me, watching my life slip by one day at a time. I will then put on a relieved smile, knowing that she is with me, and that is enough to get by from the bullying.

I will then walk through the doors and down the halls, my freckled face beaming genuinely. I will walk up to my locker, number 652. I will then place my stuffed backpack inside and pull out the assignments and essays due for the day. I will then close my locker and notice the face of the school's notorious bully and leader of the A-listers, Dash Baxter.

"Well, Mikey looks like he needs a knuckle sandwich." Dash will remark lamely before everything goes black for a few minutes. I don't usually remember the pain from the punches and the kicks, but I know that bruises will eventually show for everyone to see. I hated the attention, but if my sister is still watching me, I can take it. I can take all of it.

After being stuffed into my locker for the umpteenth time, I will wait for the populars to leave before giving out a pathetic cry of help; I was too weak and injured to get out myself.

After some time, I will eventually hear the lock click and the door open, making me tumble out onto the hard floor and hit my head. Every year, it was the same teen who helped me, that one person, the kid who was late all the time since his freshman year, the kid who had called more bathroom breaks than anyone else I know, the kid with black hair and blue eyes who would help any unpopular in need: Danny Fenton.

"Hey, you okay, Mikey?" He will ask me before offering a hand and helping me up from the floor. I will give my thanks to him and reply that everything is fine, just another bullying for me. He will then show concern and say that I need to report to the principal's office about the matter. I will then lie and say that I did before grabbing my books and walk off to my classroom, waving goodbye to the strange teen.

I don't understand why there aren't that many people like Danny, people who would help others while not expecting anything in return, people who will give a smile to others, people who understand the real evils of this world. I will then shake my head to clear the thoughts, still walking to the classroom.

After a full day of school, I will then leave as quickly as possible; there are other matters that I must do first before the day ends. I will run out of the school and take a right, towards the flower shop that was approximately ten blocks away from Casper High. I will always run for the first three blocks and then get tired and walk the rest.

After the long journey, I will arrive at the flower shop and look around at the different kinds of beautiful plants; red roses, white lilies, daffodils, tulips, peonies and more. The flowers were a welcoming sight to all strangers and I was no exception. I will always take a deep sniff in the air and sigh in the sweet, enduring fragrances of the plants.

However, I will then remember my real mission of why I was here. I will then search around the store, searching for the perfect flower to use as a special birthday gift.

My sister loves tulips, but there was one kind of tulip had always taken away her breath away just from its sheer beauty: the Semper Augustus tulip. Their red and white stripes of the flower had always captivated her; she would watch the plant for hours on end, admiring the soft petals and the striking colors and patterns of the tulip.

I will then walk over to the tulip section and soon spot the flower, its bold colors and lightning-like stripes standing out amongst the blends and flow of the other colors. It was different from the other tulips, like me.

I will then pluck the tulip from the shelf and then walked over to the counter. The register lady will give me the same price each year. $20 dollars plus tax. I will whistle, glad that the tulip mania was over a long time ago. I will then search my pockets and grab the dollars and tokens (coins) from my clothing. I will always come up a little over the price and left her the change.

I will then grab the beautiful flower and walk out of the shop with a skip. I will head over across town to the city's main cemetery in the middle of the park. It was a very long walk and it will always drain me of what strength I have left. But it's her birthday and she needs the flower more than I do.

Eventually, I will reach the cemetery and look around for her resting place, reading the various stones and crosses of the other graves. Burnley. Kirstew. Jackson. Smith. Just to name a few.

I will always find her grave between two larger stones and place the flower on the dirt. I will then sit down on the soft earth and talk to her; I will tell her about my life in the past year, about the friends I made, how Dad's been doing since his divorce with Mom. I will tell her stories and jokes. She loved my jokes.

After a few hours of spending time at her grave, I will look at the time, get up and wish her happy birthday. Because I know that she still watches over me. And for now, that's all I need to know. Before I left the cemetery, I will look back at her resting place and give a longing smile.

And for once, I am content with my life.

* * *

><p><strong>Aah, I am so terrible at one-shots! Anyway, I didn't reveal the sister's name or how she died because it didn't seem that important to me or the story. You guys can use your imagination. Go wild.<strong>

**I hope this story explains a little more on Mikey's character. It's hard writing in future 1st person. (No, not that kind of future. I'm talking about the tense.) Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. **

**POSITIVE REVIEWS AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS WELCOME! I WILL NOT ACCEPT FLAMES! :D**


End file.
